


Deathmatch

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-20
Updated: 2003-10-20
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:23:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Justin likes a career-oriented man.





	Deathmatch

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

The day Brian returned full-time to Vanguard was marked with celebration and misery. Luckly, the misery part came later, because Brian was having a hard enough time coping with the fact someone else had used his office while he had been "away." 

They hadn't said anything, but there were signs -- the furniture was not only out of place, but also crooked; there was a stick of gum in the back of the desk drawer; the entire room smelled slightly of eggs. 

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Cynthia said, looking everywhere but Brian.

He stiffened. "Did you work for him, Cynthia?"

She bit her lip.

"Did you _like_ it?" he asked with disgust.

Vance breezed through the door before Brian could get an answer. The bald man sniffed slightly -- Brian decided he would get a cleaner in there before the end of the week, or he would kill everyone trying -- but declined to comment. Instead he called cheerfully, "Brian! I hope you've settled in well."

"Like an old glove," Brian said with a sarcastic grin.

"I already have a new project for you." He handed Brian a file.

Brian flipped it open. Some musician named Phillipo Andretti, with an appointment at three pm. Brian quirked an eyebrow. "

Kind of short notice," he remarked.

It was Vance's turn to grin. "I'm sure you can handle it. After all, it's not like you were fired for incompetence, now is it?"

"Somehow," Cynthia said, after Vance had left, "I don't think he's glad to have you back."

***

At two fifty, Brian strolled into the conference room. He had missed this, the splendor of advertising, of selling not only a product, but both himself and the agency. He was still reveling in the feeling when he noticed the musician and his agent. He stopped cold.

"Hello, Brian," Ethan Gold said deliciously.

"Oh, fuck me," Brian replied.

The agent slapped the desk. "No, no, no! He's straight now!"

"I thought," Brian said slowly, "that I would be working with a Phillipo Andretti."

"I'm Phillipo," Ethan said. Brian could feel a headache coming on. "It's my stage name. It makes me sound exotic."

"I'm sure it does."

Cynthia nudged Brian. "Client," she hissed.

Right. Time to act professional. They took their seats across the conference table. "You want me to help you with a series of posters and television ads for your new CD," Brian recited from memory. He leaned back in his chair. "Well, I propose we have images of Mr _Andretti_ weeping like a baby over his violin. The ladies will love it."

Ethan's face turned slightly purple. His agent cleared his throat. "How about something, uh, less embarrassing?"

"Him making love to his 'art'?" Brian offered.

"Slut," Ethan countered.

Brian blinked innocently. "I'm only trying to get your true nature across, Mr Andretti."

Cynthia rested her head in her hands.

Ethan boldly stood, glaring down at Brian like he was scum. Brian fought the urge to yawn. "We're leaving," Ethan announced. 

"I don't want my good name sullied by someone so vile."

Brian waved goodbye as they moved to the door.

Ethan paused. "I will never set foot in this abominal place again!" he declared. "But this will not be the last you see of Ethan Gold. Phillipo Andretti. Me!"

***

They were back less than a week later.

Brian hadn't mentioned any of this to Justin, mostly because he wasn't sure what Justin's reaction would be, and he hated going into a conversation blind. Justin had never really told him the details on why he and Ethan hadn't worked out, only that Ethan was an egotistical bastard who had never told the truth a day in his life, and that things had fizzled as quickly as they had begun. Brian was just glad Justin had come to his senses; the world had lacked lustre without him.

As for Vance, Brian didn't know what Cynthia had told him, but whatever it was had apparently worked. Vance had said something about artists and a fine line between genious and insanity, and, really, Brian was better off not knowing.

But, it seemed, Ethan and his agent had booked another meeting.

"Give me one reason why I should contribute to your rise to stardom," Brian drawled.

Ethan's face went splotchy again. They were in the same conference room as last week; Brian took delight in pointing out Ethan's mistakes. "Because you're the best," the agent broke in. "We looked at every other agency in Pittsburgh, and Vanguard has the highest success rate."

"I've decided to forgive you," Ethan added, sniffing.

"Well, I haven't forgiven _you_ ," Brian said.

"I have nothing to be sorry for!"

Brian ticked off his fingers. "My state of mind while you were with Justin. My party, which you crashed. My good taste--"

"Your _what_?" Ethan shouted.

"I had to look at you," Brian pointed out. "In fact, I'm offended right now. What is that _thing_ on your chin?"

Ethan sputtered. "You-- you-- I am an artiste! I don't need this!"

"Everyone calm down!" Ethan's agent bellowed. He slammed his fists on the table. Both Brian and Ethan turned to him in shock. 

"I don't care if you hate each other, but I've invested a lot of money into you, Ethan, so we are doing this campaign."

"Like hell we are," Brian snapped.

Breathing hard, Ethan muttered, "I'll behave if he does."

"What are you, five?"

"Whore!"

"Pussy-faced pansy!"

"WHORE!"

Cynthia grabbed Brian's arm. "Whoa now, I don't think this is working."

"I'll pay you double," the agent said quickly.

***

Somehow Vance found out. Vance _always_ found out. 

The day after Brian had rejected Ethan for the second time, his intercom crackled twice, a signal from Cynthia that Vance was about to burst through the door uninvited, which he did about ten second later. Brian had just enough time to look mildly surprised at his presence.

"What can I do for you, Gardner?"

Vance raised his eyes to the ceiling. Brian could tell he was trying very hard to remain casual. "It had come to my attention that you refused to do an adverstisment for Mr Andretti, despite that he offerend to pay you double."

"Where did you hear that awful rumour?" he asked.

"Mr Andretti."

Brian winced.

***

"You were saying about my gorgeous violin?" Ethan asked smugly.

***

Somewhere along the line he had "forgotten" to inform Justin about his little project. His sort-of-boyfriend really didn't _need_ to know. It was a work thing. And Brian really wasn't up for a painful conversation about the pros and cons of Ethan Gold.

However, the Fates were against him. He returned home one evening and was pleased to find Justin already there. It saved Brian the trouble of fetching him, after all.

But Justin was quiet and pale, and he moved away when Brian tried to kiss him. "What?" Brian asked.

Justin seemed to be trying to form the words. Brian was definitely not going to panic.

"Brian," he said finally, "why are there pictures of Ethan Gold on your computer? More important, why are there pictures of Ethan Gold looking godly and saint-like?"

"Oh," Brian replied, relaxing. Justin looked up at him with wide blue eyes. "They're for an ad."

Justin frowned. "I don't think you can use someone's face without their permission. Legally."

Brian made his way over to the bar. There had to be a way to say this that wouldn't result in his death. "It's his ad."

"Oh." Justin's voice sounded choked. "Brian, a-are you enacting some sort of revenge? Is Ethan going to come out this scarred for life?"

"Sadly, no. But I tried."

When he turned around, Justin was sitting heavily in one of the new lounge chairs. They had had sex in that one last week. 

Brian pulled off his tie and ventured, "Uh, do you want me to? Enact revenge, I mean."

Justin wrinkled his nose. "I don't know. Do you want me to want you to?"

"Vance is making me do the campaign," he offered, taking a seat on the couch. This was the best he could do. He wasn't into all that talky, touchy-feely shit, and Justin knew it, too. But he really didn't want Justin to be upset over this. 

"It's okay. It's your job. I can deal," he said confidently. "He cheated on me, you know." Brian actually hadn't. "But it made me realise you really love me, so I guess it was all worth it."

"So I should be _thanking_ him?" Brian asked, incredulous. "That is fan-fucking-tastic."

Justin looked at the ceiling. "Our current relationship is all thanks to Ethan Gold," he said, dazed.

They both pondered this horror.

"He sure as hell better not find out," Brian growled.

***

That night they met the gang at Woodys. Even Hunter was there -- "We promised he could come if he finished his homework," Michael explained glumly. Hunter leered at Brian until he put an arm around Justin. As usual, the place was crowded on Friday night, but after the Ethan talk Brian really wasn't in the mood for tricking. He just wanted a drink.

"Oh my _God_!" Justin gasped. He pressed his face against Brian's shoulder. 

"Now, what have we told you two about jerking each other off in public?" Emmet scolded. The others made sounds of disgust. 

"No," Justin muttered, "it's Ethan. Don't let him see me."

Great. Brian risked a glance -- but Ethan was staring right at him, and then he was walking right towards him, and Brian had no where to run. 

"Brian Kinney! You've already managed to double my sells!"

He could feel everyone staring at him. "That's my job," he said defensively.

"You're the best," Ethan gushed. "And I deserve the best. Here--" He thrust a CD into Brian's hands. "--I've autographed his personally."

"Holy shit," Ted said, " _you're_ Phillipo Andretti? I own that CD." Blake patted his arm reassuringly.

"The one and only," Ethan boasted. 

Brian used the CD as a coaster, but Ethan didn't notice, so it ruined the effect.

"I have to go now, but just wanted to say thank you." He looked so chuffed Brian was at a loss for words. Then he glanced beside Brian. "Oh. Hey, Justin."

He trotted off, leaving everyone gaping in his wake.

Brian glared. "I hate that fucker."

Hunter stepped forward, watching Ethan go. "Who was that guy? He's fucking hot!"

"My life sucks," Justin said.


End file.
